


Little Yellow Tags: Part 11

by lurkdusoleil



Series: Little Yellow Tags [7]
Category: Glee
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Cock Rings, D/s, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 10:34:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lurkdusoleil/pseuds/lurkdusoleil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Blaine's birthday. Kurt has the perfect gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Yellow Tags: Part 11

**Author's Note:**

> The lovely itsrainingjellybeans commissioned more LYT, and this time she asked for something on Blaine’s birthday, and something involving bondage. So here we have some more back in the high school timeline. NC17, just over 5000 words. Thanks to unintentionallybadass for the usual beta, and to those who watched the livestream and gave encouragement (and distraction).
> 
> Warnings/kinks: Use of cock ring (liberties were taken—please do your research before you try in real life), safeword usage, cigarette smoking, rough sex, orgasm denial, oversensitivity, bondage, D/s, facials (not the spa kind).

Kurt doesn’t know that it’s going to be Blaine’s birthday until two days before it actually happens.

“Were you going to tell me?” 

Blaine pushes the lunch tray he’d prepared for the both of them closer to Kurt and gives him a look. 

“That...I was going to get you a cheeseburger?” 

“No,” Kurt replies tartly, picking up the cheeseburger and taking a big bite purely out of spite. He chews and swallows before continuing, “What’s Wednesday?” 

Blaine carefully dips a french fry into his pepper and ketchup and eats it before he replies. 

“It’s March 28th.” 

“Mmhm,” Kurt replies. “Is there any significance to this date, Blaine?” 

Blaine smiles faintly and ducks his head. 

“I’m guessing you already know.” 

“Why did I have to find out from Quinn?” Kurt asks, exasperated. “She started asking me what kind of _pornos_ you like, Blaine. _Pornos._ ” 

Blaine holds back a smile, and Kurt pokes him in the side before he continues on his cheeseburger. 

“Two days is not enough time to prepare.” 

“Don’t get me anything.” 

“Blaine, please tell me you’re not going Bella Swan on this.” 

Blaine laughs, head dropping, voice squeaking like it always does, and Kurt grins at the top of his head. His laugh is weirdly adorable from a guy who’s wearing studded leather. 

“Fine. Your present to me can be you not telling a soul I understood the Twilight reference.” 

“Oh no,” Kurt says. “I can’t get you something I’d give you if it wasn’t your birthday.” 

“So no blowjobs.” 

Kurt takes a suggestive sip from his apple juice. As suggestive as he can, in any case, with a smiling apple on the label staring Blaine dead in the face. 

“I didn’t say that.” 

\-- 

Overnight shipping is Kurt’s best friend. As is the nondescript label on the package. 

“Got somethin’,” his dad had said, grabbing the package off the porch early Wednesday morning. “BK dot G?” 

“It’s a new scarf,” Kurt explains, only half-lying. He plans on trying to wear it as a scarf sometime, if only to drive Blaine nuts, but it’s got another use for later that day first. 

“Okay. Have fun. You going to school or what?” 

“I called myself in late,” Kurt replies. “It’s Blaine’s birthday, I had to get stuff together so I could set it up at his place after school.” 

Also only a half-lie. He is going to set it up at Blaine’s after school. The definition of “after” is just… _loose._

“One of these days, you’re not gonna be able to get away with your shenanigans,” Burt grumbles genially, stomping into the kitchen. 

Kurt runs the package upstairs and opens it. He glances over the shipping information, and then hides the box in his closet, stuffing the new plaything and the free gift from the company into the duffle bag he’d prepared before running down the stairs and out the door before his dad could comment on the bag. 

“Bye!” 

\-- 

Kurt has thankfully gotten over a lot of his reluctance and reserve, which is how he yanks Blaine into a bathroom and locks the door third period before dropping down and blowing him right there. 

“Oh shit,” Blaine blurts, barely covering his mouth in time to stop more outbursts before Kurt tells him to shut up. Kurt keeps his mouth on Blaine’s cock instead, glancing up mischievously as he works his tongue and hands along with his lips. 

“Oh my god, happy birthday to me,” Blaine babbles, breathless and slightly giddy as he stares down at Kurt, mouth hanging open, hips struggling to stay back against the wall despite one of Kurt’s hands grasping the left cheek of his ass, urging him to move. “Careful, careful, _oh my god_ \--” 

“Do you want to come on my face?” Kurt asks, pulling back just long enough to ask before he returns to his work. 

“Oh my _god_ \--” 

Blaine pulls back, gripping Kurt’s chin in one hand and his own cock in the other, stroking himself twice before he comes all over Kurt’s nose and cheek, a single drop managing to land in his eyelashes. Kurt bites his lip and groans, eyes clenched shut, feeling rather than seeing Blaine rush away from him. 

“Holy--I’m sorry, oh my god, hold on--” 

Blaine returns a second later with a damp paper towel, wiping at Kurt firmly but carefully. When he’s done, Kurt opens his eyes and smiles up. 

“Happy Birthday,” he says, standing. He adjusts himself in his pants and picks up his messenger bag, slinging it in front and heading to the door. “Do you have your apartment keys on you?” 

“Yes?” Blaine asks. 

Kurt holds out his hand and wiggles his fingers, smiling coyly. 

“Please tell me you’re going to check the mirror before you leave the bathroom, Kurt,” Blaine says, handing the keys over and staring at his face. 

“Is there come on me?” 

“No?” 

“Then no,” Kurt says. Blaine whimpers, but Kurt just shrugs. “I’m leaving anyway. See you after school.” 

Kurt hurries away. As playful as he’d been in the bathroom with his boyfriend, he really was just acting for Blaine’s benefit, and he’s kind of terrified that somehow Blaine painted the words _I JUST GOT JIZZED ON_ across his face with the scratch of the paper towel. 

He makes it to the car without incident, though, and a quick check in his rearview mirror shows his hair is thoroughly messed up, and his face is red, but otherwise there are no signs that he just allowed his boyfriend to cover his face with semen in the middle of the school day. 

But at least he’d been able to let the hair go, and give Blaine something to think about. A public statement that Kurt belongs to him, that Kurt’s not ashamed of it. 

He’s got even more planned so that Blaine has no doubts about exactly what Kurt feels. 

\-- 

Kurt’s glad of taking the final period off to set up. It takes a while to get everything just right, especially when he locks himself into it. It takes some serious dexterity, and the clock is only minutes from Blaine’s usual arrival home by the time he’s done with it all. 

He lays back and waits. And waits. And waits. The thought of what’s going to come has his cock straining toward his bare stomach at first, but as the time passes it softens, and he hopes that Blaine likes him waiting, because this had better be worth it. 

Blaine comes home half an hour later than he usually does, the front door banging open and closed mere moments before he appears in the bedroom doorway. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Hello, sailor.” 

Kurt has himself laid out on Blaine’s bed, totally naked, his legs hooked over the bottom end of the mattress. He’s wearing the cuffs he bought earlier in the month, both attached to the end link of a chain--his new “scarf”--that runs up the bed and wraps around a post of the headboard. It’s locked with a padlock, the key of which is laid on Kurt’s stomach, attached to a simple silver chain necklace. On the bed next to him is a bottle of lube and the “free gift” that came with the purchase of the chain--a metal cock ring. There are candles lit around the room, _tons_ of them, and with the shades drawn and the lights off, it creates a bright, warm, romantic effect in the dark, muted colors of Blaine’s room. 

“How long have you been tied up like this?” Blaine asks, his voice wavering. Kurt can _see_ his jeans tight against his erection. So he _does_ like Kurt waiting--good. 

“Quite a while,” Kurt replies. “I’ve been waiting for you to get home.” 

“I--I’m sorry, I--” 

“Eagerly.” 

Blaine glances down at Kurt’s cock, hardening and going red between his legs, and seems to rethink the apology, but not the explanation, which he gives with a smirk. More waiting while he talks. 

“Quinn and the girls brought me out,” he said. “Just a quick run to a couple stores so I could legally buy a lotto ticket, cigarettes, and porn, and then they made me register to vote.” 

Kurt snickers, and then wriggles to get more comfortable. 

“Well, now that you’re here--” 

“Yeah?” 

Blaine drops his bag and undresses slowly, staring at Kurt’s body the whole time, eyes dark. Kurt feels himself flushing and growing tense with every bit of skin revealed. God, he hopes Blaine _really_ likes this, because he’s not sure he can handle it-- 

“The key to the chain is yours,” Kurt says. He swallows. This is big--much bigger than just sex, than just a silly sexy birthday gift. It’s everything. “It belongs to...to my Dom.” 

Blaine glances up, face going slack. 

“Did--did you just--” 

Kurt’s never used that word as a title for Blaine before. They’d talked about Dominance, and Blaine had acted the part, _been_ the part, for months now. And for even longer before that, it had gone undefined--something barely spoken about, something quiet and forbidden when they were still drawing the boundaries of the intensity of the bond between them. But Kurt now knows it to be true, knows that he doesn’t have to be afraid of it anymore. 

“You’re my Dom,” Kurt says. “And...I want you to act like it. I’m yours for as long as you want me.” 

“Always,” Blaine gasps, launching forward and straddling over Kurt to kiss him frantically. “Always, want you forever, Kurt--” 

“Then you have me forever,” Kurt whispers, trembling. “But for now...as long as I’m tied to your bed...you can do whatever you want with me. With...with my body.” 

Blaine whines and writhes down into Kurt, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth and pulling before he relaxes down into a deep kiss. It’s open and forceful and Kurt can only take it, panting around Blaine’s tongue and against his lips. 

“Do you mean it?” Blaine gasps, sucking down onto Kurt’s neck, pressing up beneath his jaw and giving the tingling skin there all the attention his mouth can manage through the words. “Anything I want?” 

“Yes,” Kurt assures. “Anything.” 

Blaine hisses a quick breath, in and out, seething and low and broken. 

“We--we need a real safeword, then,” he says. “I mean, we can keep using colors if you want--” 

“No,” Kurt interrupts. “No, we should--we should have something that’s...that’s just ours.” 

“Mmm...okay.” He sits up, straddling Kurt and wiggling down to line them up, cock to cock, and rock slowly. “What would you like it to be? Something we wouldn’t normally talk about during sex.” 

Kurt immediately thinks of things that would stop the moment, but not turn them off completely. He casts his eyes around for an idea. 

“Oh,” he blurts, catching sight of Blaine’s hamper. “Mesh.” 

Blaine laughs. 

“So we won’t be using that in the bedroom, I take it.” 

“No.” 

Blaine giggles, whines breaking through as he continues to roll in Kurt’s lap. 

“Okay, mesh it is.” He runs a finger down Kurt’s chest and stomach, slipping along the faint trail of hair down from his navel, stopping there to draw patterns with his fingers, exploring the recently thickened growth, new and masculine and exciting. “How about...when you use it, we’ll...we’ll stop what we’re doing and talk. And...if you want to continue, after we have, we can? So like...it’ll be a yellow, and then you pick where we go from there.” 

“You know you can use it too. You’re supposed to be able to.” 

“I know,” Blaine murmurs, eyes rising to catch Kurt’s, wide and, in the candlelight, gleaming almost cartoonishly. Kurt feels his own eyes prickling a little bit at the sheer strength of what the look implies, and for a brief moment he wishes his wrists weren’t restricted so he could try to wipe away any stray tears. “If I have to, I will. But tonight, I...I want to try something, and it might get…” 

He gestures with his hands, and Kurt laughs when they give nothing away but that Blaine would look lovely with them cupped around something. 

“Overwhelming?” Kurt tries. 

Blaine smiles, bashful but toothy as he blushes and bows his head in acknowledgement. “Overwhelming.” 

“Well...I’m ready,” Kurt says, an edge of complaint creeping into his voice. “Just...do something, already.” 

Blaine laughs again, and leans down to kiss Kurt on the corners of his mouth, avoiding Kurt’s attempts to really connect them again. 

“Okay. We’ll start simple.” 

He lubes up Kurt’s cock thickly, letting Kurt hiss as the cool gel is spread over him. Then, carefully, he navigates the cock ring over Kurt’s shaft before pressing it down, leaving a decent opening at the bottom. 

“Tell me if anything hurts,” Blaine says. “I read that there can be pressure, but it shouldn’t...hurt.” 

Kurt tries to breathe. Just the idea of pain, of what the ring could do ( _Oh god why didn’t I research this that was stupid of me what if there are horrible consequences oh my god what if I lose my dick--_ ) softens him again significantly. With the extra room and flexibility, Blaine slides his balls through it as well, first one and then the other, and it fits snugly around him. Blaine checks the little clasp on the top that will release it quickly, making sure it doesn’t pinch, and Kurt takes a breath. It’s--very strange, but when he looks down and sees Blaine checking him over, clearly having done the research himself, he calms down, especially when he hardens again and it feels--really, unimaginably _hard._

“Oh, that’s--that’s just--” 

Blaine strokes and caresses him, pressing his fingertips in to feel how hard Kurt really is, with the blood trapping itself as he stiffens completely. Kurt bites his lips and tries not to thrust up hard enough to hit Blaine in the face or something equally mortifying, but it feels _really fucking good._

“That’s beautiful,” Blaine breathes. “Thank you--so good for me.” 

Kurt just nods and strains against his cuffs, trying to push himself toward Blaine, hinting for contact. But Blaine just takes the lube and crawls up over Kurt, straddling his shoulders, legs wide. His cock hangs heavy just over Kurt’s chin, and he looks up at Blaine deliberately before sticking his tongue out and curling it up, dragging the tip of it up over the swollen head. 

“That’s--unh, yes,” Blaine groans, twitching his hips as he opens the lube and coats his fingers. “Just--just keep going. Just like that.” 

He supports himself on one hand and reaches back to finger himself, and Kurt knows he’s going quick and sharp by the catches in his breath--a simple application of lube, rather than a full stretch. Blaine likes feeling too much, when he takes Kurt inside him, and Kurt’s sure he’s in for a special brand of hell with his cock trapped in the ring and Blaine’s tight little ass getting slicked to fuck onto him. He reaches out and licks at Blaine’s cock again--the closer he can get Blaine to coming, the better. He’s had to hold off orgasms for him before, but the ring is a new experience, and Kurt’s not entirely sure he can handle it. 

But he wants to try. Oh god, he wants to so badly. He wants to do whatever Blaine wants, give him everything. 

“Okay,” Blaine sighs, removing his fingers and sliding down until he’s over Kurt’s hips, pouring lube into his hand and glancing between Kurt’s cock and his face. “You ready, baby?” 

Kurt swallows, tries to speak, and then promptly gives up, nodding instead. He braces himself, and shudders out a breath as Blaine slicks him. The lube feels insane against his dick, which might as well be made of the same metal as the ring holding him hostage. He’s sensitive, beyond anything he’s felt before, and _hard_ he’s never been this hard it’s too much-- 

Blaine sinks down over him in a smooth, slow slide, face transported as though every need is filled along with his body, a high, quiet keen breaking from his throat. Kurt hears himself whimpering more than he feels it; it seems all his nerves have abandoned their functions and become extensions of where Blaine clamps tight around him, and only Blaine’s hands stroking over his face and neck bring him to awares. 

“Breathe,” Blaine instructs. “Breathe with my hands.” 

He places one on Kurt’s throat and one on his chest. Kurt takes a breath in, and Blaine lifts one hand with it, giving him a goal to reach. The other hand remains relaxed on his throat, and when the pressure increases just a bit, and then releases, Kurt finds his rhythm. 

In, out. In, out. Blaine smiles at him. 

“Good boy. Keep breathing.” 

He lifts up, and Kurt’s breath stutters, but continues through the slow drag. But there’s no way Kurt can do any breathing when Blaine suddenly drops, _hard_ , and he lets out a cry instead. 

“There we go.” Blaine strokes down Kurt’s chest and stomach, but then he rears back, hands on his thighs, fingers digging into the muscle. “Breathe, and let me hear you.” 

And then he does it again. Drag up, slow and steady, and then he drops hard and fast with a deep grunt. And again. _Draaaaaag._ Drop. _Draaaaaag._ Drop. Kurt’s lungs struggle to keep time with it, to inhale when Blaine rises so that his cries have breath to express every time he slams back down, but more often than not his voice strangles and he’s left panting for breath when the need becomes too great. 

Blaine rises and drops without pause, jaw hanging slack as he continues his work, up and down and up and down, the mattress creaking when he swallows Kurt up again, ass slapping onto thighs and muscles quivering and starting to sweat from the effort. But he doesn’t seem to tire of it, up and down and up and down again, faster and faster until the drag is as fast as the drop, his body bouncing, his hands roaming up to stroke himself, chest and neck and face and then down to his cock, working over himself hard. 

“Gonna--gonna come,” he grits out, flushed red and heaving for breath, and Kurt doesn’t know how to _be_ anymore. Blaine’s taken everything, it’s his now, and Kurt can only lie there and take what Blaine gives in return, his voice begging in the distance for more, for different, for something that can end the screaming of his nerves everywhere Blaine touches that fades to weak tingling up to his fingers and down to his curling toes. 

But Blaine’s a man of his word, and within seconds he comes, white splashing over Kurt in wild droplets as he continues to fuck himself without the least pause, voice breaking and rising in a whine as he releases his cock and grips his thighs again for leverage, riding Kurt up to the tip of his cock before he buries it to the root, as fast as his body can manage. Kurt closes his eyes and throws his head back--it’s too much, he can’t look and feel at the same time, he doesn’t even know if he can feel much longer, not with Blaine sobbing high and desperate in his ears, it’s too _much--_

As though hearing his desperation, Blaine starts to slow until finally, with loud cries, _ha, ha, ha!_ he drops down one last time, hard, and swivels his hips, twitching around Kurt until he settles. 

“So good, so hard for me,” Blaine pants, and Kurt wants nothing more than to open his eyes and look at Blaine, sweat-slick and flushed and all his, but he wants to _touch_ , he can’t see it if he can’t have it, not now-- “Stay hard for me.” 

He’s gone in an instant, a sweet slide and then nothing, and Kurt blinks open to see him crossing the room, just as beautifully disheveled as he’d hoped, walking--walking _away_ , his back pink, the small of it glistening with drops of sweat, his ass bouncing as he heads to the window and opens it, sitting on the floor and pulling a pack of cigarettes from the pants he’d tossed there earlier. He pulls one out, lights it up, and sighs out the first breath of smoke in a bluish cloud. 

Oh, fuck. 

“Blaine,” Kurt says, voice croaking from misuse. “Blaine, please--” 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Blaine soothes, smiling from the window. “I’ll take care of you.” 

Kurt eyes the cigarette in his hand, noting how much of it is left, how Blaine only breathes in enough for the paper to burn and crinkle to ash for a moment before he pulls back. He’s taking his time, savoring it, and Kurt twists his hips, thighs rubbing together, anything to get some kind of sensation, some kind of _relief_ , he’s _burning_ \-- 

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Blaine says, and Kurt opens his eyes again--he’d lost himself, but Blaine is back, the cigarette is gone, the window is closed. Kurt almost sobs in relief. “Let’s give you some attention, okay baby?” 

He adjusts Kurt’s chains for a moment before going to the end of the bed, pulling Kurt down and spreading his legs, kneeling between them and leaning forward. He grins, stunning and sunny, before leaning forward and stroking Kurt’s cock, grip loose and sinuous. 

“How does that feel?” 

Kurt can’t answer. His voice is working but his teeth and tongue and lips won’t form a single word. His mouth hangs heavy, open, releasing incoherent moans as Blaine tries different grips on him, drawing out reactions until he finds what he’s looking for in Kurt’s body, settling with his fingers tight and letting them slip through freshly applied lube, squeezing up and letting loose down, almost mimicking the sensations he’d given when he’d fucked himself before, but there’s no build up. He just goes for it, the other hand cupping Kurt’s swollen balls, just tensing over them, hardly even a squeeze. 

It’s still too much. But he doesn’t break, not until Blaine leans forward and closes his lips around the head, sucking hard. 

_Too much, too much, too much, really too much--_

“Ah! Mesh--mesh--” 

In an instant, Blaine is there, unclipping his cuffs from the chain and pulling Kurt into his arms. Kurt shivers and curls up, tears spilling over before he could even realize he needed to cry. His body aches and his cock feels like it’s going to explode, but the moment Blaine wraps him up and strokes his hair and kisses his cheeks he feels safe again, whole. 

“I’m sorry--sorry, m’sorry--” 

“No, shhh,” Blaine whispers. “No, baby, don’t be sorry. You did nothing wrong. Nothing, you’re such a good boy. I love you so much, Kurt, you’re perfect.” 

He continues to whisper sweet endearments and encouragements as Kurt’s body recovers, his mind coming along after it, drawn gently by Blaine’s palms sweeping along his arms and back, Blaine’s lips in his hair, Blaine’s words holding him just as close as his body. Blaine’s taking care of him. He can trust that. 

“How are you feeling?” Blaine asks, when Kurt finally relaxes. His cock is still hard, still needing, but the rest of him feels sane again. “Do you need me to take off the ring? We can stop.” 

“No,” Kurt answers honestly. “I just...I just needed a minute.” 

“Are you sure?” Blaine checks. “You don’t need to continue if you don’t want to, you’ve already done so much--” 

“No, I want to keep going,” Kurt says. “Just--just maybe…” He sighs, and considers. “Just let me keep touching you? Don’t tie me back up.” 

“Of course,” Blaine agrees, kissing Kurt gently. “Can you handle fucking me again?” 

Kurt nods, touching himself gingerly to check. He’s still sensitive, still too close to coming even though he can’t, but it feels good again. “Yes. I’m good. How do you want me?” 

“You’re too good to me,” Blaine giggles, and they lay back again, kissing until Blaine’s rutting against Kurt’s hip again, fingers digging into skin with renewed urgency. 

“Lay back,” Blaine says, and Kurt does as he’s told. Blaine climbs up and straddles him, but he faces Kurt’s feet. He peeks back over his shoulder and grins. “How’s this?” 

He rocks his ass back against Kurt’s cock, and Kurt reaches forward, spreading his cheeks and letting his cock slide between them. It’s beautiful, Blaine is so beautiful, and there’s no way this will last. Kurt will be begging within minutes. 

“Yes,” he says. “Just--just please--” 

“I’ll take care of you,” Blaine says. “Just tell me when you need to come.” 

He sinks down over Kurt again, and the view is-- _incredible._ Kurt can see _everything_ , every stretch of Blaine’s muscle around him, every drag of his hole, every slide down and every clench when the angle is right. So he just stares, hands still spreading Blaine apart, watching, mesmerized, as Blaine fucks himself again, quicker and quicker until he’s straining again, back muscles rolling, legs shaking visibly. 

“I’m gonna come again,” Blaine announces, like he can’t believe it. “Oh fuck, just--just like that, just stay like that, right--right there--oh god--oh _fuck_ \--” 

With one arm working before him, Blaine comes again, crying wildly, body jerking above Kurt, almost tipping over, and that’s it, Kurt can’t wait anymore. 

“I need to come,” he says, and Blaine hops off, turning and reaching for the cock ring. But Kurt grabs his wrist. 

“How--I need to fuck you,” he says. “I--can I? When--when I need to?” 

“Oh my god, yes,” Blaine pants, trying to catch his breath, and Kurt looks around for a moment. He can’t make this decision, he can’t, he needs his Dom-- 

“Just--how should I--” 

“Here,” Blaine says. “Can you stand?” 

Kurt stands, and he’s not totally steady, but he can hold himself up. Blaine bends over the end of the bed and reaches forward, grasping the chain and wrapping it around one hand. 

“Fuck me like this,” he says. “Go ahead, baby, anyway you want. You’ve earned it, such a good boy--” 

Kurt shuts him up with one hard thrust, and Blaine’s shout is delicious. He’s bound to be too sensitive, but knowing that Blaine loves the edge after an orgasm, knowing that he’s loving it, and knowing that he’s been feeling it himself all this time and _fuck_ they’re both going to be so sore tomorrow, but that it will be something they feel together, that reminds them rather than torments them--knowing all that, Kurt grabs Blaine’s waist and hauls him back as he fucks forward, and the loud slapping as he sets his rhythm is _perfect._

“God, yes, fuck me,” Blaine babbles. “Keep--keep going, oh my god, fuck, Kurt--” 

“Blaine,” Kurt says, surprisingly calm. “Blaine, I need to--” 

Blaine grips the chain hard, the veins on his arms popping out with the strain as he uses it for leverage to fuck back, gritting out, “Do it. Come on.” 

Kurt reaches down and fumbles to unsnap the ring. When it falls away, he feels an instant rush, and he falls down, covering Blaine, chest to back, arms around him, jerking his hips forward _hard_ \-- 

“Ah, ah, ah, ah--oh, _shit_ \--” 

Everything he’s built up empties at once, his cock pumping again and again into Blaine, who clenches down on him, speaking encouragements as Kurt cries out into the back of his neck, forehead and eyes buried in the curls at the nape, hips stuttering out of control as he comes. When he’s finally finished, he pulls out, whimpering, and falls to the bed. 

“Oh god,” he whines. He feels floaty and weird and the nerves in his cock keep firing randomly as he comes down, still hard and bobbing when his hips twitch into the sensation. “I--Blaine--” 

Blaine’s there, and he’s moving Kurt up the bed, maneuvering the sheets around his body until they’re free. He pulls them up, and they’re amazingly cool against Kurt’s flushed skin as he settles into Blaine’s arms. Blaine kisses him sweetly, caressing him like he did before, palms flat over his back and arms. 

“Thank you so much,” he says. “You were so perfect, Kurt, thank you.” 

“I--mmm,” Kurt replies, deciding to snuggle into Blaine’s neck instead of actually saying anything, and Blaine laughs. 

“Do you want to sleep?” 

“Mmmm.” 

“Go ahead, sweetheart. I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

Kurt looks up and kisses Blaine’s jaw once, gathering himself for words. 

“I wouldn’t protest if you slipped away to get us snacks at some point,” he says. 

Blaine laughs and holds him close. 

“Point taken.”


End file.
